


All the Flowers Will Bloom

by SmolPotato3404



Series: Sledgefu Week 2020 [8]
Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: But not today, Eugene is Eurydice, Flowers, Getting Together, Hadestown References, Journey to the Underworld, M/M, Myth AU, Nymphs & Dryads, Orpheus and Eurydice (Greek myth), Sad Ending, Singing, Sledgefu Week 2020, Tragedy, because I needed that doubt comes in moment, i know that traditionally nymphs are female, sledgefu week, snafu is Orpheus, yes this is heavily inspired by Hadestown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25686913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmolPotato3404/pseuds/SmolPotato3404
Summary: All around him, he heard silence. Not a single footstep, not a single breath. They were so close, where was he? Why couldn't he hear him?He stepped into that first band of sunlight and doubt finally took over Merriell’s better judgement. He turned around only to see what he most feared.-The myth of Orpheus and Eurydice retold with Merriell and Eugene.
Relationships: Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge
Series: Sledgefu Week 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851721
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	All the Flowers Will Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus Day 8: Myth AU. Wow. I can't believe I got through my first Sledgefu Week. It's been a good run. Now to end it with some tragedy :')
> 
> Title is from "Come Home With Me" from Hadestown

The first thing Merriell noticed about him was the way his hair looked like it caught fire in the sunlight. Pale skin, hazel eyes, rounded, narrow features. He was a dryad. His beauty was unlike anything Merriell had ever seen, he might as well have been one of the gods. 

He struck up a new tune on his lyre, a gift from his father, the god Apollo. His fingers flew incredibly on the strings, but his voice was what made all the nymphs sigh; made the sun feel warmer. It was filled with such longing and tender emotion as he sang a song about two lovers who took endless walks on the banks of a river. The dryad’s eyes briefly met Merriell’s gaze and just as quickly flitted away from it. A small smile crept up on his face. In that moment, Merriell vowed he would marry him.

The grin never left his face, not even when he stopped playing, when the Naiads slowly sank back into the water. Only the lone tree nymph stood before him, seemingly contemplating whether he should leave or not. 

“Your voice is quite lovely,” the nymph finally spoke for the first time. His voice was a beautiful melody to Merriell’s ears. He played out the music in his head. Beautiful. 

“Come home with me.” The dryad gave him a funny look and stepped back. Merriell grinned wider, making the nymph chuckle nervously. “I’m Merriell.” He extended his hand to the nymph. 

“Eugene,” he said, taking his hand. Eugene. Perfect. They locked eyes, and Merriell would be damned if he looked away first. “Got any other songs?” Eugene whispered. 

“I’m working on one, ah, it ain't finished yet, but when I sing it,” Merriell paused. The nymph had his eyebrow cocked, an amused smile making its way onto his face. “When I sing it, the trees will sing and all the flowers will bloom. Spring will come year round. And if I get lucky, you might marry me.”

The nymph laughed, a beautiful, rich chuckle, and Merriell couldn’t help but chuckle too. Eugene gazed at him expectantly as he began to pluck out the tune. It was slow and mournful, with a tint of hope at the edges. Merriell felt warmth surge through his chest as he began to sing. The breeze picked up around the two of them, picking up flower petals and fallen leaves. Small flower petals caught in Eugene’s hair, and even the Naiads poked their heads up from the pond, just to hear his song. A melody so beautiful it made the birds stop singing. 

Eugene’s eyes were closed when the song ended abruptly. As he opened them slowly, he noticed a small flower had bloomed between them at the base of Merriell’s feet. 

"I don't know where to go from here," Merriell murmured.

“It isn’t finished but still it can do this?” He picked up the small flower and Merriell gave a small nod. “You have to finish it.” 

"I will for you, Eugene." But when he looked up, he was alone. Only a thin tree with flower petals caught between its branches.

Merriell would do anything for Eugene. It was a shame that there wasn't much he could provide. There was barely enough food to get by and their house was just barely that. What they did have plenty of, however, was love. Their wedding bands were simple twigs Eugene had produced and interwoven with flowers, which made them all the more meaningful to Merriell.

In the beginning all was well. Newly inspired, Merriell continued adding to his song. Every new line he would sing to Eugene. There in the sunlight, hair on fire and his rosy cheeks illuminating the tiny freckles that had started to form on his face. Lying under the stars and strolling along the river bank. But the oncoming winter made their problems more clear. Eugene started looking tired, his movements weak. Food became yet more scarce and the weather was getting colder. Merriell became more insistent on finishing his song, but something was wrong. He couldn’t find the tune or feel the rhythm. Eugene grew more desperate and the arguments started. 

It was as if the warmth of their love had been snuffed out by the winter winds. Often, Merriell found himself strumming out possible melodies as the wind picked up around dusk and looked up to be left alone with nothing but a thin shivering tree with falling leaves. Alone, again.

He realized it one blustering night as Eugene tended to the hearth. His song was meant for Eugene and with all the work he was putting into it, he was forgetting Eugene’s needs. He could see it in his thinning frame and hunched spine. Even in the greying color of his bark whenever he decided he couldn't deal with all these feelings at once. And worst of all, in his eyes rested longing. A wistful gaze that made Merriell’s heart wrench.

He takes Eugene’s hand that night, bringing it to his lips for a tender kiss, much to the dryad’s surprise.

"I'm sorry, Eugene. I will do better for you because you deserve the world," he whispers. The tip of Eugene’s nose and ears are red from the cold, and he looks so innocent in the moment. "You are my world."

Eugene leans forward to kiss him and despite the bitter cold, Merriell feels all the warmth of the world coursing through his veins. He can see himself spending the rest of his life like this. Bearing the harsh winters together, singing round a glowing fire, growing old together even though he knew as a nymph, Eugene would outlive him by much longer. When he dies, he wants to be part of the earth, to be a part of his lover forever. 

They walk separately through the trees, playing a game of call and respond to make their scavenging more interesting. Merriell thinks he sees a sliver of fiery hair, and calls out. The same melody he’s been trying to wrap his head around for weeks. For a moment, he doesn’t see or hear anything. He sings the tune again, scanning for the tree with eternal autumn leaves. Still no response. And then a thud. 

Merriell’s heart races as he dashes towards the sound. His blood runs cold as he sees a snake coiled around a slender ankle, weaving its way out from under pale limbs. Merriell drops to his knees hopelessly.

_No. It couldn’t be._

His lover’s lifeless body lies on the forest floor in the shade, pale and small. Merriell’s eyes quickly overflow with tears. His sobs are loud and racking. He tries to drag Eugene into the patch of sunlight only a few paces to his right, but suddenly his thin body is far too heavy and Merriell is much too weak. A few flower petals fall from above and land in Eugene’s hair. It reminds him of their first meeting. When he promised he would bring back spring for Eugene with his song. 

But he was wrong. The grief rolls off of him in waves. Not a single sound can be heard apart from Merriell’s sobs. He can’t do this. He has to finish the song. He can’t. For Eugene. He can’t leave his lover here alone. So he waits.

His tears have stopped flowing by now. Woody stems slowly wrap themselves around Eugene’s body and tiny flowers spring up from the crevices. They seem to pull him back into the earth and Merriell wishes they would take him too. 

Merriell returns home, defeated and mournful. He picks up his lyre and slowly plucks the familiar tune. His voice catches in his throat and he somehow can’t remember the words. He no longer feels the warmth surging through his body, only hears the sad pluck of a mournful tune. An empty sound without hope. His head hangs low and he sees a small flower peeking timidly out of a crack in the ground. He feels a short gust of air brush down past him, rustling the flower. And suddenly, Merriell realizes what he needs to do. 

He will take the road no one has ever gone before. Down to the Underworld to bring his lover back.

He had prayed to his father for help. No answer, of course. He was not expecting help anyways. With his mother abandoning him when he was young, and his father’s unambiguous absence, he had learned to be distrustful of the world. Still, he took solace in the little pleasures offered by the world. The spring flowers, autumn leaves, Eugene. Needless to say, he was pleased to see the small flowers scattered intermittently along the ground, seemingly guiding him to where he needed to go. 

The flowers stopped abruptly at a large formation of boulders. A dead end. Merriell sat down, armed with nothing but a lyre and a song. Who did he think he was to be able to enter the world where no living man has ever gone before, much less come back? 

He was not sure what to do, so he did the only thing he knew how to do. He sang. Sang the song of spring, the fresh grief in his voice making the melody sound all the more haunting as it was beautiful. 

And slowly, the boulders began to move with a low rumble. They slid and rearranged themselves like a huge puzzle, opening up an entryway straight into the Underworld. 

"I'm coming Gene."

For the most part, Merriell was met with no resistance. He had managed to lull the three-headed beast, Cerberus, to sleep with a lullaby. The further he went, though, the more he felt absolute despair. The anguished faces of the River Styx flashed behind his eyelids, making his blood run cold with a mix of grief and anxiety. 

He passed through the Fields of Asphodel, shivering at the thought of Gene becoming one of those expressionless faces, milling around aimlessly. He heard them whispering, lips unmoving, a horrendous sound growing louder the longer he was there. They all parted ways for him, as if they knew where he was headed. One soul grabbed his arm, causing Merriell to turn and look straight into his eyes, just two pitiful voids on a pallid face. His eyebrows were creased and his mouth formed a sad 'o,' seemingly telling him, _don’t go_. It was a terrifying sight he would never forget. Ripping his arm away, he marched on. 

It could have been days or hours until he got through a breaking point in the fields of empty souls. He had reached a garden of sorts. It was beautiful, but twisted in a way that entranced Merriell. How something so sickly and lifeless look so beautiful?

“I know why you’re here,” a voice called from behind him, a little bit raspy as if it had not been used for quite some time. Merriell turned around to find a beautiful woman wearing dark muted colors. Her hair was braided with sickly-looking flowers. Her eyes were tired but seemed to have some life in them, like dying embers. 

“Lady Persephone,” he bowed. 

“I heard your song,” she continued, picking a pomegranate of a tree and examining it. “I felt your grief through the roots of the earth.” The embers of her eyes flashed dangerously. “I would advise you that my husband is not in a good mood. He will not have the patience to hear you out.” Merriell’s throat went dry. He did not make it this far to leave without being heard. He would get his Gene back, he had to. 

“It’s a good thing I don’t care whether my husband is in a patient mood or not,” Persephone set her pomegranate aside. “Come on.”

Merriell exhaled. Of all things, he was certainly not expecting that. The goddess before him seemed so grave and exhausted, nothing at all like the warm lady full of light who brought the world back to life every spring. It was a very tense walk. 

“I have to ask, where did you get that melody?” The goddess asked, cutting the silence. Merriell was caught completely off guard.

“It just came to me,” he said blankly. The goddess scoffed. “Well, I just hear it… everywhere. I hear it in the trees, in the wind, in the babbling of the brook, I hear it when I see,” Merriell’s throat constricted. “I heard it when I saw Eugene.”

The goddess looked him over silently, eyes half-lidded with a look he couldn’t place. “We’re here.”

Merriell blinked a few times, and sure enough they had reached the dark palace. A stark contrast to the vast wasteland that was the Underworld. Upon closer inspection, Merriell noticed that the dark walls glittered with jewels. He looked around to find he was alone. Slightly uneased, Merriell walked down the corridor, lit dimly by torches.

The throne of Hades was not what Merriell had imagined. He had thought maybe a throne of human bones, or something that would terrify him. Instead, it was breathtaking. A tall, elegant seat made of pure obsidian, embellished with precious crystals and diamonds. In it sat Hades, a handsome man with dark hair and weary eyes, glowing dimly, but dangerously. He wore pitch black robes, which seemed to swirl so constantly, that Merriell thought he could make out faces in the fabric. His presence demanded fear and respect, but Merriell forced himself to stay strong. Persephone sat next to him in a smaller throne, of the same fashion, only it was embellished by jewels the color of pomegranates. Three old women with leathery wings and tattered clothes stood in the corner, glaring at him with malicious eyes. The Fates.

“Merriell, son of Apollo,” Hades spoke in a deep, reverberating voice. Not letting himself be intimidated, Merriell stood up taller. “You come here for your lover, but do not seem to comprehend that death does not stop for love. It takes, and will continue taking, discriminating against no one. Any resistance is futile.” Merriell tried to interject, but Hades continued, “Now, as no living being can come into my realm and live to tell the tale, I am afraid that your time is done. And do not worry, you will not become one of those lifeless shells you saw earlier. For your nerve, you will be doing much worse.”

The god clapped his hands once and the three Fates made their way towards him, but Merriell cried out, “Wait!”

Hades looked at him incredulously and began to laugh, “Did you honestly believe that you had a chance? That I would listen to you and let you bend the rules? Let my children think they can escape the cold grip of death?”

“Look, just hear me out, I have a—”

“No, you listen here, son of Apollo, I will not tolerate tantrums from a worthless, overconfident—” the god’s eyes flashed dangerously before another voice spoke up.

“Let him sing, Hades,” it was Persephone. She reached out to touch his hand, leaving him with the words on his tongue. His eyes were murderous, but she stared him down with equal fervor. Then Hades began to laugh again, softly, disbelievingly, until it grew in a crescendo that made Merriell less anxious and more impatient.

“Fine. Of course, of course,” he laughed, wiping a nonexistent tear from his eye, “Since my wife is such a fan,” he howled with laughter, “I’ll let you sing me a little song, right before I send you to the great beyond, where you’ll face your doom, and then nobody will hear your singing, boy.” His laughter died down. “You have one song, son of Apollo. Do not disappoint me.” 

With a wave of his hand, the room was transformed, and Merriell found himself in a large, empty amphitheater. Hades sat in the very top row with Persephone standing next to him, arms crossed. Merriell had never felt so small in his life, but when he picked up his lyre, he remembered Eugene. Remembered sunlit days, lying in the grass with Gene, nights huddled together, breathing in his scent, the smile Eugene had on his face every time Merriell sang to him. He smiled fondly as he started to pluck out the notes of the song of spring. 

His voice rang out crisp and clean as he sang a song of loss, a song of hope, about longing, the way the moon misses the sun, the way the winter misses the spring— the way he missed Eugene. He looked up to see the king of the Underworld, sitting on his throne, slack-jawed with glossy eyes. Next to him, the queen of the Underworld had tears streaming down her stony face. He finally felt like he understood. It was their love that made the flowers bloom and the leaves drop in an endless cycle of longing. The king, confined to loneliness in the world of the dead, missed his wife, and so every year she would come back to him, knowing she would miss the warmth and light up above. But what made Merriell’s heart stop was the shock of red hair standing small next to the goddess. 

It was really him. 

Merriell didn’t even notice when the whole room seemed to glow with the warmth of a hearth, and golden-orange flower petals swirled around his feet, lifting into the air higher and higher, reaching the throne of Hades. All he could focus on was Eugene, standing there in a haze, tearing up as if he didn’t even know why. His passion formed cracks in the inner earth below, and little sickly flowers, like the ones from Persephone’s garden, sprouted from these cracks, all the way up to the top row of the arena. 

As the song came to an end, he heard Hades’ deep voice repeating the melody softly as he looked along wistfully. Merriell smiled sadly. Nobody spoke. The entire arena was silent.

Then slowly, Persephone extended her hand to her husband and he took it. They never looked away from each other’s eyes, brimmed with bittersweet tears of joy. And they danced, holding each other close, forgiveness bleeding through their touch. 

Just like that, the spell was broken. Eugene bounded down the steps to the ground floor of the arena, where he wrestled Merriell into a hug. Merriell grasped at him desperately, uttering a million apologies for not being able to keep him safe, and Eugene shaking his head at every single one. They were together at last, and Merriell never wanted to let go.

“Young man,” came the low rumble that was Hades’ voice. Merriell looked up from Gene’s embrace to see the god of the Underworld staring at him with a softened gaze. “That melody was one that I used to sing with my wife, back in the garden where we met. It was moving to hear you bring it back to life."

“Let him come home with me,” Merriell spoke up with a newfound confidence. Hades' eyes turned steely again. No one responded for several moments. Then slowly Hades nodded.

"I will let you take your lover back. However,” he paused and Merriell braced himself for the worst. “You two will walk back out the way you came, but it will not be like you planned. You are not to walk side by side or hand in hand. No, you will walk in front, and the dryad will walk behind. It must remain so until you both step out into the light." Persephone turned her face away from her husband.

"And Merriell, If you turn to look behind, Eugene is to be sent back to the Underworld, and you must finish your walk into the world of the living alone. Is that clear?”

“But why—” Eugene began to protest and Merriell’s face paled.

“That will be all. _Goodbye gentlemen._ ”

The walk back from the Underworld was much more treacherous than the walk down. Merriell had got what he wanted, hadn’t he? But he couldn’t shake off the bad feeling settling in his gut. He couldn’t help but feel he was the butt of a joke, the victim of some cruel trick. 

The blank faces of the Fields of Asphodel all stared at him, like they knew something he didn’t. As if they knew he was walking back alone. After all, how could it be possible that Hades would actually help him out?

_No._ He couldn’t think like that. Eugene was behind him. They would make it out back into the world. Only then would Merriell look behind to see that the nymph with the beautiful halo of fire had been following him all along. 

He had to believe that. He tried to focus on the not-so-distant promise of the future. He and Gene could finally lead the lives they deserved. Things would go back to the way they were before, and they could be happy together. 

But was Gene happy with the way things were before? Gene, with his wistful smiles and his soft distant gaze? Gene, who turned into a tree every time he and Merriell had problems? Would he really be willing to follow a boy like Merriell back into the cold and dark again? Or would he abandon him like everyone else in his life had?

Merriell stopped. His eyes flitted towards the ground, incredibly tempted to turn his head a few inches—just to make sure his lover was really there. But then, he caught sight of the three old ladies he recognized to be the Fates, staring at him from a nearby tree, looking almost predatory. Waiting for the moment when he finally crumbled. 

That was not going to happen. He was going to walk through that threshold with Eugene, and they were going to rebuild their lives. It would be better than before. He would get to enjoy his lover’s soft chuckles again, and the way his eyes glittered when he closely watched the birds nested near their home. It would turn out well for them. 

The end was so near. Merriell could practically see the light leading into the world of the living. With tears of relief, he picked up his pace as he made his way toward that light. The worst was almost over. He stopped a few paces before the first band of light. 

All around him, he heard silence. Not a single footstep, not a single breath. They were so close, where was he? Why couldn't he hear him?

He stepped into that first band of sunlight and doubt finally took over Merriell’s better judgement. He turned around only to see what he most feared. 

“It’s you,” he mumbled, all blood draining from his face. 

“It’s me,” answered Eugene, sadness creeping through the small smile making its way onto his face. “Merriell,” he whispered, frightened.

“Eugene,” Merriell’s heart broke in two as he watched the Fates take his lover away.

_He was so close._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everybody who read my fics and left comments or kudos! I really appreciate you all! All of you are so lovely <3


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